


Tales of the Vault Hunters

by Carterson_the_Mortal



Category: Borderlands, RWBY
Genre: Borderlands AU, Gen, RWBYlands
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-06-12
Packaged: 2018-03-28 18:43:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3865612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carterson_the_Mortal/pseuds/Carterson_the_Mortal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So, you want to hear a story, eh? An epic story about heroes fighting to save the world of Pandora from an evil madman? Well, too bad, it's about some idiots on Pandora living their lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cold Call of the Siren

**Author's Note:**

> New AU I've been working on for a while. Some chapters will be focused on one Vault Hunter, others on more than one. Some action, some backstory, some romance. Inspired by talk of a Borderlands/RWBY crossover on Tumblr.

_Thousand Cuts_

Yang looked over her shoulder. “You done yet?”

 

A hum. “Just a few more minutes...”

 

“You said that four minutes ago, _Gōngzhǔ_. Just pick a damn gun already!”

 

Yang really hates going out on missions with Weiss. With Blake, it’s fine because she talks enough to make the Assassin’s silence tolerable. And being sisters with a Mechromancer like Ruby makes it easy to talk about weapon upgrades or Crescent, or what have you. But with Weiss, well...she isn’t sure what it is, but something about the Siren just does not gel with the Berserker. The white-haired woman is decent, bordering on good most of the time when she’s in Beacon at the shops or just sitting and reading a book, but then there are times that Yang wants to break out Ember Celica and teach her how to make out with a shotgun. Like now, for instance.

 

For whatever reason, Weiss is needlessly picky about what weapons to add to her arsenal whenever they come across a crate of them. Eberle Armaments were too cheap looking, Vasilias Tech was annoyingly shiny--seriously, one time Yang was worried she was gonna burst into flames when the sun reflected off of Ruby’s new prize--Haywood Corp’s weapons basically turned the victim into a well-tossed salad, and so on. But for some reason, she was more than happy to overload herself with Schnee Corporation guns. Even though she could complain about every little minute detail, which she did one bored afternoon for 45 straight minutes (Yang made a good amount of money timing that rant), she had an affection for anything that came from that Atlas-based company. Their designs were intricate, but refreshingly simple; there was even balance across each weapons type, from pistols and assault rifles to snipers and rocket launchers; and they never crapped out at a crucial moment.

 

A snap of Weiss’ fingers brought the blonde out of her musing.

 

“I’ve been trying to get your attention for the past five minutes,” she scowled. “We’re leaving, I have a sufficient weapon.”

 

Yang scoffed. “Lemme guess, another Schnee Corp?” A small ‘humph’ told her she was dead on the money. “You know, princess, I’m pretty sure Schnee Corp dabbles in products besides guns.”

 

Weiss gave her a confused look. “What are you getting at, Xiao Long?”

 

“I’m just saying, you love them so much. They have other things you could buy if you ask the right people. They aren’t guns, per se, but they are bullets.”

 

“Yang, I swear I’ll freeze your organs from the inside out,” Weiss threatens, tattoos glowing. Most noticeable to Yang is how the top of her tattoo trailing down her left eye glows more intensely than the rest.

 

“Seriously though,” Yang puts her pistol in the holster on her thigh as they continue walking to the Fast Travel. “I rarely see you using a weapon that isn’t Schnee Corp. What gives?”

 

Weiss’ tattoos dim to their normal state as she simply answers, “Dust.”

 

“Dust?”

 

“The guns almost...feed me Dust, if that makes any sense. Whenever I have one, I can feel it flowing through me, powering my bullets. It’s almost symbiotic in a way, increasing my Aura and abilities while I in turn use them more.” To demonstrate, Weiss flexed her fingers and created a ball of ice. She threw it at a baby Creep resting nearby. The ball hit the Creep right on the forehead, lifting it up in the air and putting it the Siren’s Frozen Stasis. Without blinking, Weiss drew out the pistol on her hip and put three rounds into the floating beast. Electricity crackled around the Creep, slowly encasing it in ice. Then, the stasis fizzled away and the Creep fell to the ground, shattering on impact.

 

“If I used another weapon, I could still do that, but the effects wouldn’t be the same,” Weiss continued. “It’s hard to explain...but it feels like the weapons are made for me. To increase my Semblance, specifically.”

 

“Is that why you came to Pandora? Because you’re addicted?” Yang asked.

 

“I’m not addicted, brute. I can use any weapon I choose to.”

 

“Which is why you rarely use or buy one that isn’t a Schnee Corp one. If you’re an addict, Weiss, I’d like to know now so this doesn’t give us a problem later.”

 

“I am _not_ a Duster!” Weiss’ tattoos flared again. Ice slowly crept around her fingers and forearms. She took a deep breath and calmed herself. “Let’s just get back to Beacon.”

 

 

That night, after they had returned to Beacon and headed to their rooms, Weiss sat in her bed. Her weapons were neatly arranged in a chest near the window, all but the pistol she had used earlier. Her thumb traced over the ‘Schnee’ logo slowly, taking in each letter, eyes trailing the curved ‘S’.

 

Her gaze turned to the stars. She looked past Pandora’s moon, past the large ‘T’ that symbolized the Torchwick Corporation; what she was certain was the location of the planet Atlas. Her home. She wasn’t wrong when she said it felt as the Schnee Corp weapons were made for her. The things she had talked about with her father--increase the clip size for the snipers, reduce the firing rate for the Spitting Hydra--were in there, details only she knew. She supposed, in their own way, it was how her parents were helping her as she learned more about being a Siren. Before, they were filled with joy and pride, and then...well, she was on Pandora now, it didn’t matter.

 

But as she shelved the pistol in its chest and closed it shut, she thought about home. About her parents, and how they forced her to pack up and leave; about her sister, whose smile was a front for uncontrolled jealousy. She didn’t know if she would ever return to Atlas in the near future, but she knew that these weapons were more than just killing machines.

  
They were, at this point, the only real family she had.


	2. Never Come to Pandora. Like, Ever.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan Newville and Jack Ramsey were amazingly unlucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd seen that GIF from Age of Ultron where the Avengers leap into battle and those two HYDRA dudes realize how fucked they are. Thus, this chapter was born!

Ryan Newville and Jack Ramsey were amazingly unlucky. First, there was being forced to enlist in the military, which would've been bearable if it weren't for being dishonorably discharged for the thing with the fleshlight ( **it wasn't his fault, Jack would say only five times a week** ). And then there was deciding their next course of action would be going to Pandora.

Pandora. The place with the Grimm that could haul you off by their talons and fly you to be dinner for their children or some Ursa would get your spine stuck in their teeth. Pandora, where anyone who couldn't be classified as remotely sane and had still a pulse basically wanted to repurpose your pelvis as a new mask to cover up the scars from baby Creeps. The place that was said to have some ancient treasure inside a Vault, but no one could actually support this claim. Yeah,  _that_ Pandora. Ryan and Jack were so stupid that they decided to try their hand at being Vault Hunters.

Needless to say, that didn't go well. In fact, it went almost hilariously bad. Things started off on a bad foot when the transport lost their gear at some point during travel (how you lose two bags during a  _space_ travel was beyond Ryan's comprehension, and Jack felt the need to rip his beard out). Jack lost an arm, which was then shoddily replaced by some kid named Brandon that cost way too much. The replacement guns and shields they had were pathetic; whoever this Burns dude was, he clearly didn't know how to aim or just not die, so how he ended up making guns and shields was a goddamn mystery.

"Please shoot me," Jack complained one night as they slept. They'd ended up in the Arid Nexus Boneyard, looking for a job that the Torchwick Corporation had sent out for over the ECHOs. They were about five miles out, given that their Carrier had crashed in the middle of the night, they decided to set up camp.

"Not yet, man," Ryan pleaded. "Once we find Torchwick, we're gonna be somebodies again. I promise."

By the time morning rolled around, they'd set off to the source of the ECHO. It took six hours, four clips of Jack's bullets, and a medkit, but they reached the TorchCorp outpost and promptly passed out from heat stroke and exhaustion. Another two hours later, and the two were dressed in black and red armor as the new Burners (foot troops, but from the sound of things, this Torchwick guy was seriously into naming things as fire-related as possible. Whatever, what mattered was that they were getting paid). By then, you'd think that this meant their luck had improved.

You'd be wrong.

Turns out that being a Burner required a lot of physical activity, and Jack was sorta not all that in shape. Sure, he could defend himself in a fight, but that was different from training. Running, push-ups, crunches, all of these made the guy nearly die of exhaustion. Once, a fellow Burner had said that he was "so fat that he once broke his arm and gravy came out," and Jack was inclined to agree. Ryan, while somewhat more physically capable, lacked leadership qualities. In fact, some might say he was a kiss-ass. He was constantly brown nosing his superiors to the point where they all passed him off to each other. The dude attached onto authority figures like a bad smell, and Jack wasn't sure if it was part of some plan that would lead to the two of them taking control of the corporation over Torchwick's bloody corpse.

Between the two of them-one annoyingly overeager and submissive, the other just lazy and dim-witted, even by the remedial standards of Pandora-they made up one incredibly annoying human being. And as such, it was decided that they would be in one place where even they couldn't fuck up.

The Dust Blight. Apparently the two of them were on guard duty for some  _thing_ known only as Mogar, which roughly translated to "the Warrior" in some alien language. Every day, the two would report at the front gate to guard it for 16 hours straight. They could alternate shifts, they could break for lunch, but no matter what, they had to watch the door and make sure no one or thing got through them. Of course, nothing ever did.

"So much for being somebodies," Jack grumbled. "We're just walking security alarms, except we can't even make really loud noises to alert everyone else."

"It isn't  _that_ bad," Ryan weakly argued.

"Dude, we've been here at this job for weeks now, and literally nothing has happened. This is like watching paint dry, only slightly more tedious."

A sigh, then, "Yeah, this job sucks. Our lives suck. This planet sucks."

"There's no way this can get any worse."

Unfortunately for them, things were about to get worse. At first, they thought the engine was just a Carrier passing through, like some did. Even as it sounded louder, they didn't think too much of it. Hell, the gunfire and screams didn't make them bat an eye, because bandits were pretty stupid and occasionally one of them blew off their own foot, especially those Free ones. Until they saw them.

On a motorcycle was a woman with blonde hair, made all the more noticeable by golden gauntlets on her hands. Another woman with jet black hair in a side buzz was driving the Carrier next to her, and in  _that_ transport were a younger woman holding...a scythe? And a Siren? And some blonde dude. Then it felt like time slowed down.

The motorcycle rider hit her brakes, causing the gravel to crunch loudly. The Carrier took a sharp right, and the driver and three passengers jumped out of the vehicle, weapons out and the Siren's fist glowing. The blonde woman threw an arm out, her gauntlet clearly morphing to show off the barrel. Whoever these five people were, they weren't to be messed with. 

As mechanical whirring went off behind them signaling that the defenses had kicked on and these five intruders closed the distance between them, Jack and Ryan realized the one piece of advice they should've heeded from the other soldiers they talked to during their time in the service.

Never,  _ever,_ go to Pandora.

 

 


	3. Fresh Off the Bus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not even a few hours into Pandora, and Blake's already being bothered to join someone's cause. Perfect.

** Two Years Ago. **

Pandora. She’d heard a lot about this place over the ECHOs. They said it was dangerous to anyone without a gun or any association to a mercenary group. How some of the animals were so big that they could literally snatch you in their talons and fly you off at a moment’s notice, or stomp on you and leave you as flat as a pancake. But she also heard about the greatest thing to exist on Pandora.

 

A fresh start.

 

It was something Blake needed, particularly after the train. It was the one place no one would think to look for her, and if they did, she had plenty of ground to cover and use to hide. It was large enough to where she could probably hide among one of the local bandit groups for months and never be seen. So, with that in mind, she stowed away on the first ship she could find and in a handful of days, made it on Pandora without anyone noticing, taking a bus and sitting in the back to get some rest.

 

"Tell me now!"

 

"Tell me now!"

 

"Can you show me how!"

 

That is, if it weren't for two of her other passengers in the seats in front of her singing songs every couple of minutes for the past two hours.

 

"Understand!"

 

"What makes a good wo-maaaaaaaaan!"

 

If only they hadn't picked a song that she really liked.

 

Opening her eyes, Blake sent glares to the pair of singers. Neither of them noticed; the shorter girl with black hair and red highlights was nodding her head in beat with the music. Her cohort, a much taller and bulkier woman with blonde hair, strummed the air like it was a guitar, even making guitar sound effects with her mouth. The woman with white hair a few aisles further down either grew to tolerate it, or more likely, had noise canceling headphones in to spare herself. Oh, how Blake envied her.

 

"Cuz lines get drawn and they get kicked and bluuuuuured, indelible is what I need to spread the word--"

 

Okay, that's it, this had gone on long enough. There was only so much Blake could take. That said, morphing Gambol Shroud to its gun form and putting it to the head of the blonde one (she was closer and it definitely wasn't because she looked less like a child than the other one) was probably not one of Blake's smarter moves. Especially when the younger woman pulled out a gun of her own.

 

"Get away from my sister," she threatened.

 

"Ruby, relax," the blonde warned. "I'm sure we can work this all out." She turned to Blake and offered a cocky smile, lilac eyes lighting up. "What seems to be the problem?"

 

"Your singing," Blake replied immediately. "It needs to stop, now."

 

A few seconds passed before the two of them replied in the driest voices possible:

 

"What."

 

So, she repeated it for them again, adding, "I really like that song, and you're ruining it for me."

 

"So you put a gun to my head?" the blonde raised an eyebrow in skepticism. It's only then that Blake realizes that this may be a bit overkill.

 

"My apologies, it's just been a long ride," she sighed and returned the weapon to her back..

 

"Ah, it's no problem," Ruby shrugs. "I guess Yang and I were being a little loud."

 

"We can dial it back a bit, gorgeous," Yang winked at her.

 

"Oh god, Yang, can you please not."

 

Blake smiled. “So, why are you guys here? I get the feeling you’re not on Pandora for your singing career.”

 

“We’re here for adventuuuuuuuure!” Ruby jumped on top of Yang’s shoulders with a huge grin.

 

“She means, we’re here looking for the Vault,” Yang whispered. Both women looked towards the fourth passenger up front, surprisingly silent and eyes closed. If Blake didn’t see her shoulders roll every now and then, she would’ve thought that she died.

 

“I thought the Vault was a myth,” Blake whispered back. “Just something they tell to people at bars to get them to buy another drink.”

 

“Trust me, beautiful, it’s real. If it wasn’t, then Charon Industries wouldn’t be sending people and tech here all the time.”

 

Blake had to concede that point. There was plenty of proof that Charon Industries and their owner Malcolm Hargrove were sending a lot of people to Pandora, perhaps to make up for their failed artifact hunting excursion on Chorus six months prior. Hargrove had believed there would be something valuable on Chorus that would elevate his already substantial fortune. To say he was wrong was underselling it, and the failure was so large that the press had all but declared Hargrove unfit to run the very company that he founded.

 

“Say you actually do the find the Vault,” Blake said. “What’s stopping Charon from killing you and taking the credit for your discovery?”

 

Yang grinned. “Trust me, beautiful, this ain’t my first rodeo. If they want us dead, they’re gonna have to work for it.”

 

The assassin chuckled. This woman seemed pretty sure of herself, and if it weren’t the defined muscle in her arms, Blake wouldn’t think she’d be able to cut it here on Pandora. Her beauty certainly gave that indication.

 

“Blake,” she whispered. “My name’s Blake.”

 

“I didn’t ask for your name,” Yang grinned.

 

“But I’m guessing you were thinking of asking.”

 

Before Yang could reply, the bus lurched forward and came to a halt. "Alright, first stop Fyrestone! Everyone out!" the driver ordered.

 

Stepping out into the bright sun of Pandora, Blake turned her head at the three women next to her. With Yang’s orange tank top and black shorts, Ruby’s red short sleeved shirt and grey camo jeans, and their silent fourth partner’s white blouse and jeans, Blake found herself wishing she owned colors that weren’t on the darker end of the spectrum. Her black sleeveless shirt and black leggings suddenly felt more constrictive and heated now that she was standing under the sun full blast, and not helping were the black sunglasses she was wearing to conceal her identity.

 

“Ugh, I’m too hot,” she muttered aloud.

 

“Hot damn,” Yang said as she stretched her body to soak up the sun. “Never thought we were gonna get off that bus! Well, guess we better get going if we’re gonna...um...find that thing.” The blonde’s lilac eyes drifted to their still silent fourth guest.

 

“Smooth,” Ruby whispered in her ear before yelping as Yang punched her shoulder.

 

“You’re looking for the Vault,” the white haired woman said. Her blue eyes stared into the sisters, but bore no animosity. “Aren’t you?”

 

“Whaaaaaaaaaaaat, no,” Ruby waved her hand dismissively. “The Vault’s a myth! We’re here for--”

 

All four women clutched their ears in pain as a loud ringing filled their ears. It was to the point where Blake nearly collapsed to her knees. Slowly, the ringing subsided until it was replaced by a voice.

 

_“Don’t be alarmed. I need you to stay calm. You don’t have any reason to trust me, but I need you to believe that I’m here to guide you to the Vault. Believe me, it’s real, and only you can get to it and open it before it falls into the wrong hands. But if you have any hope of reaching it, you’ll need to do so together. Head into the town and look for a man with white hair. He’ll be noticeable by all the coffee he drinks.”_

 

Collective groans came as the voice disappeared. Blake rubbed her head to try and lessen some of the pain.

 

“So, Vault’s a myth, hm?” the white haired woman crossed her arms. Ruby, for her part, grinned sheepishly. “Well, if what that voice said was true, then we need to find whoever this man is and question him about it.”

 

“And what makes you think we’re letting you tag along?” Yang crossed her arms.

 

“Don’t be thick, you dunce. Whoever or whatever that was said that only we can reach the Vault together. So until then, you’re stuck with me.”

 

Yang grumbled, “Fine. But one wrong move, and I’ll flay you alive, lady.”

 

“Tch, I’d like to see you try, you blonde--”

 

“So, what’s your name?” Ruby chuckled nervously. “I’m Ruby, and that’s my sister Yang. That’s uh...”

 

“Blake,” the dark haired woman replied lamely.

 

“Kara. You can call me Kara,” the pale woman said after a beat of silence. “Now, let’s go. The sooner we find the Vault, the sooner we can all part ways.”

 

“You ain’t wrong about that,” Yang muttered as they walked into town.

 

Blake sighed. Not even on Pandora for half a day, and she was already being roped into someone else’s cause.

  
“Hey Blake, you coming?” Yang called out. The assassin sighed and followed her into the town of Fyrestone. Hopefully, this cause would end better than the last one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song that Ruby and Yang are singing is "What Makes a Good Man" by The Heavy. It was used in the trailers for Borderlands 2 and the end credits for Pre-Sequel, and I thought it'd fit here.


	4. Blake Belladonna: Train of Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Audio recording is as follows.

_Audio Recording is as follows: Belladonna, Blake. Taurus, Adam. Time: Eight months ago. Location: McCormick Train Station, Atlas._

_T: “Take a look at this. Apparently, the humans are heading over to Pandora now.”_

_B: “Pandora? That’s even farther out than here. What could possibly be worth going there for?”_

_T: “Something about some treasure or some god, who cares. Humans will look for anything that doesn’t make them feel alone in the universe and avoid their problems. *muffled sound* That’s our ride. Let’s go.”_

_*12 hours later, aboard the Schnee Javelin Tram*_

_*static*_

_B: “Why did you do that?! They were innocent, you said no casualties!”_

_T: “None of them are innocent! They’re on Schnee’s payroll, using Schnee weapons, on a Schnee vehicle. Anything associated with Schnee has to be eliminated, Blake. Do you understand? *silence* I said, do you understand?!”_

_B: “I understand.”_

_T: “Good. Now let’s keep moving, and remember, don’t hold back.”_

_*static, followed by loud clanking*_

_B: “We need to get out of here!”_

_T: “Buy me some time!”_

_B: “Are you sure?”_

_T: “Just do it!”_

_*air slicing, clanking, followed by grunting*_

_T: “Thanks, Blake. I knew I could...Blake? What are you doing?”_

_B: “Goodbye.”_

_*air slices*_

_T: “Blake? Blake?! BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAKE?!”_

_*recording ends*_

_Unknown male: “So James, what do you think of that?”_

_James: “I’ll admit, Roman, I didn’t think you had anything substantial when you came to me. But then I looked at her record....infiltration, swordsmanship, and her Semblance. Add her to the list of candidates.”_

_Roman: “Yes, sir. So right now, we’ve got two Faunus, the fighter, some techie, a thief, and two orphans. I’d heard something from a friend of mine about a Siren on your home turf...”_

_James: “A Siren? Now, that would be quite a find, wouldn’t it? Show me.”_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Transcript was inspired by the audio logs in the Borderlands games. They'll be used sometimes to relay stuff that happened in the past, and to provide context for certain characters in the future. I realized that I couldn't do the Black trailer any justice, but I also needed to show how Blake would know about Pandora in the first place besides the news. Adam seemed like the best way to get that across.


End file.
